Lattakia Hotels
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Along the Coast
Entry 10 of 14 | show all | print this entry |
Lataqia, Syria
2 1/2 hours south of Antakya, Turkiye.
July 15th.
No internet in the entire town of Tartous where we came from where we met Shanklish, the aged cheese of cheeses, the king of all edible (edible?) molds and far beyond anything the French could dream of; we have met it and come to the moment of truth (borrowing our hotel owner's term for the moment before you put shanklish in your mouth). It is intense. So much so that one ball of it we were served by a kind old man who really wanted us to see the "old" thing but unfortunately hadn't checked on this one in a while. Maggots still moved quite happily on the outside while the instead reflect the color of dark ash and muddy worms. The smell turned my stomach and actually upset me, emotionally you could say. "Rick, this is not right...Rick, this is wrong, man, look...wait are those the maggot's eggs?" Rick: "No that's just...uhhh...well, it does need some onion to cut the taste..."
He takes a bite.
I will skip ahead in time now, as we are in Lataquia, away from the Shanklish Fortress, and Rick is taking a double dose of antibiotics. Who dares escape such a dairy product unscathed! We are not afraid.
This place is beautiful and in many ways more European than any other city we have been to in Syria. It has a vibrant night life (to me and Rick at least) an amazing coastal walk above the Meditteranean and the people here have been just as honestly kind as anywhere (a man drives us to a hotel simply because we look tired and lost).
There is a lot people can learn from this kind of behavior, so simple and freely given. It is not a big deal here, but it is changing. With so many people coming how can you treat everyone as an honored guest. May it always be.
We'll write more soon,
Evrim
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